


Apparal

by Rulerofthefakeempire



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Confession, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 03:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5402081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rulerofthefakeempire/pseuds/Rulerofthefakeempire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And maybe it was more than that, because he liked Abed different than shoes or his jacket, he wouldn’t kill for his jacket, and he didn’t have the strange urge to take care of his shoes when they were sick. Abed was different. Because he made Troy want to be all perfect, and flirty, and touching and handholding and flowers. And he made Troy want to be better and braver and bolder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apparal

Abed had this really weird way of sleeping, or, in hindsight, a really normal way of sleeping, which in turn made it weird. With the way that he acted when he was awake you expected him to hang from the ceiling, or sleep with his eyes wide open, perched on top of a staircase, but no, he slept like a completely average human being.

 

Though Troy had never until now actually seen it happen before.

 

He was generally aware that it was a thing that had happened in his vicinity upon occasion, but he had never truly witnessed it. Yes, admittedly he had slept over before, even slept in the same bed with the guy, but, lets face it, he fell asleep first and woke up last and he guessed that he may have occasionally have to go to the bathroom during the night, and, yeah, Abed was asleep during those moments, but you know, so was he.

 

But now, now he was awake, not wide awake, not heart pounding, but smooth, just half awake, almost there. Coherent; but not fixed. Just sort of vague, like the whole world was just this room and he need not think of anything that was beyond that.

 

And Abed was sleeping, like really. Deeply asleep, as asleep as someone like Abed ever got. His eyes were closed and his mouth open just a little and his breathing all deep and mellow. His hand gripping limply onto the front of Troy’s shirt, and their legs entwined. And he looked so beautiful then, so still and stationary, and Abed never looked stationary.

 

He was always moving about, shifting, talking, thinking so quickly that it was hard to keep up. But here he was, not moving, just breathing; refueling for the day that was yet to happen. Troy didn’t know what time it was, early he supposed, early enough for the sunshine to only just be leaking in through the curtains, early enough for them not to need to wake up just as yet.

 

They slept on Abed’s tiny ass bed in his tiny ass apartment, squished together on one pillow and under one blanket. Shirley would have thrown a crucifix at them or something should she have seen, but that wasn’t what was happening here. He might have maybe liked it if that was what was happening here, but it wasn’t. They were just sleeping; Abed was just sleeping.

 

He didn’t know why he would have liked it if something more had been happening, he wouldn’t have liked it with anyone else, but with Abed, he didn’t know, it just appealed to him. It made sense, it just felt like that was something that something he would like. Like a new pair of shoes or his high school jacket. He just liked Abed.

 

And maybe it was more than that, because he liked Abed different than shoes or his jacket, he wouldn’t kill for his jacket, and he didn’t have the strange urge to take care of his shoes when they were sick. Abed was different. Because he made Troy want to be all perfect, and flirty, and touching and handholding and flowers. And he made Troy want to be better and braver and bolder.

 

And he didn’t think he was gay, or even inclined towards men, it was just Abed. He just liked Abed; he was the only one he liked.

 

The only one in the whole wide world.

 

And then he began to awaken and watching that was one of the nicest things he’d ever experienced. It began with him stretching his legs, the tightening of his limbs and muscles, the crinkling of his nose, a muffled yawn, and he looked so human, so real and squishy, and capable of real life emotions. Of course, he was always capable of real life emotions; he just didn’t look like he was.

 

All this was stretched out over a number of minutes, of which Troy watched, intoxicated, neither awake nor asleep, but just… pleased. And when Abed finally opened his eyes, he didn’t look surprised to see Troy watching him back, didn’t startle or jump, just looked at him like he was kind of glad he was there, not disturbed by his staring even in the slightest.

 

“Hi,” he said quietly. Abed blinked at him.

 

“Hello Troy.”

 

Troy smiled at him, delirious with the morning and the warmth of another human being.

 

“I think you’re great, I think you’re the greatest.”

 

And he didn’t say anything after that; didn’t elaborate or admit that he didn’t mean that he was the greatest. He didn’t tell him that he loved him, didn’t dare.

 

Too embarrassed, too scared, too a lot of things.

 

Abed smiled at him, and he loved it when he did that so he did it back in the hope that he wouldn’t stop.

 

“Can I ask you a question?”

 

He was asking to be polite, he could tell because if Abed wanted to ask a question, then he would, inevitably. He was just checking that Troy would be able to register it.

 

Troy nodded, knowing that Abed’s hand was still clinging to his shirt.

 

“Are you in love with me?”

 

Troy stiffened and he was quite sure that the shock of quite obvious on his face. He paused for a moment and avoided eye contact. And then, like he no longer cared he nodded, and didn’t look up because there was only one thing worse than being certain of rejection, and that was not being certain of rejection.

 

Because there was that hope, that niggling, that secret yearning, that wish for it all to be true. The chaste touches. The lingering glances. It all made his heart race and ripped him from his dazed state.

 

“Oh,” he heard Abed say. “Cool… cool, cool, cool.”

 

He didn’t know what that meant. He knew that that sometimes meant that he was pleased. But Abed also said that when he didn’t know what to say, or nobody was responding to his initial statement.

 

So Troy looked up at him because he wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but he wanted something to make him happy and looking at Abed made him happy and he liked to think that in most situations he did as he pleased.

  
And Abed, Abed was surprisingly close to his face, having shifted closer to him, and he had such insightful eyes, eyes that made you feel as if you were being seen straight through, all your emotions and thoughts laid bare. But he was so close, so real and Troy could feel his gentle breath on his face, and Troy’s eyes flickered down to his lips and his heart was beating rapidly in his chest and he really wanted to kiss him.

 

So… he did.

 

Because he had been taught that when you love people you should tell them every day and kiss them whenever you could. He had also been taught that those people were meant to be girls, but what the hell? If he remembered everything he was taught he wouldn’t be in community college.

 

He held his best goddamn friend’s cheek, closed his goddamn eyes, and pressed his lips as firmly as he could to Abed’s, and tried to put all that he had ever done into that kiss, every moment, every action, everything he had ever thought or said that had lead to this moment.

 

And Abed kissed him back; pressing against him, hand in his shirt, making sure he didn’t go anywhere, not giving him any incentive to loose his nerve, to think that he was alone in his affections.

 

Hard and fast, teeth, and then Abed was on top of him, wearing Troy’s shirt and a pair of pajama pants, his knees either side of his hips and Troy could see, his pupil’s dilated and his hair mussed from sleep, and he barely had any time to take in the sight before Abed leant down to him and kissed him again, and it wasn’t like the one before.

 

The one before had been rushed; they had needed to get it out of the way, to assure each other that their suspicions were true and that neither was going to don a disgusted expression or run, but this, this was sweet and wet and not clumsy at all. This was all exploratory, discovering new territory, figuring out what went where and why they liked the fact that it did.

 

And Abed Nadir’s tongue was in his mouth and he loved it, and his hands were on his waist and hands were in his hair, and he let out a whine against his lips and arched upwards just so that there torso’s brushed against one another, and Abed let out a shiver and forced him back down, pinning him with his longer frame, pressing him tightly to mattress, his tongue flicking against Troy’s teeth, slowly getting faster and faster and more and more intense, until they were forced apart for want of breath.

 

Abed pressed his forehead against his, breathing hard though his expression very similar to the one he usually had.

 

“I love you very, very much,” he said and Troy grinned and told him to go take a cold shower while he went to make pancakes.

 

And they kissed, like people do. They kissed like all things were good, like kissing each other was the best decision each of them had ever made and neither knew why it had taken them that long.


End file.
